No Time Like the Present
by sienna27
Summary: TV Show Episode Title Challenge - Prompt Set #2 Title Challenge: Next Stop, Valhalla -- Setting: Mid Season 4 -- Emily and Hotch are pinned down with no back up and no way out
1. No Time Like the Present Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: Not related to any of my other stories. This takes place canon mid-season 4.

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**Prompt Set #2**

Show: Oz

Title Challenge: Next Stop, Valhalla

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**No Time Like the Present**

"AHHHHH!!"

Emily screamed. The impact of the bullet spinning her backwards, smashing her into Hotch. Both of them tumbled to the ground, their bodies hitting the solid concrete with a thud. Fortunately Hotch took the brunt of the impact of their fall. The wind was knocked out of him, but even gasping for his own breath, his only thought was checking on Emily. Praying to God that she wasn't hurt badly. Not even allowing himself to consider the possibility that she was dead.

Sliding out from underneath her body, he placed her gently on the floor, and then threw himself on top of her as the impact of another bullet slammed into the concrete pillar behind them. Showering their clothes and hair with dust and pebbles.

Jesus Christ! That one almost took his head off. But he couldn't worry about that now. Eyes wide in terror he dropped his weapon on the ground and frantically began running his hands over her body, pleading with her in a harsh whisper.

"Tell me where you're hit!"

Blinking, Emily tried to focus on Hotch and his question. It seemed like an important question but she was a little fuzzy. Why was she fuzzy?

Bullet.

That was it. That was why she was fuzzy. And that's what he was asking about. She was about to answer him when she suddenly hissed as Hotch's fingers made rough contact with the entry wound.

Wincing in sympathy he yanked his hand back as he whispered, "I'm so sorry sweetheart," then he squeezed her hand, "but I have to check it okay?"

She nodded, starting to feel slightly more clear headed now that the shock of being shot and thrown from vertical to horizontal was starting to wear off. Then a burst of adrenaline hit her system.

SHOT? HOLY SHIT! She got FREAKING shot! That BLOWS!!

Then she got distracted from her indignation about the whole thing when a more important question jockeyed for her attention. Since when did Hotch call her sweetheart? Hotch didn't even call her Emily. But he clearly had just called her sweetheart.

Huh.

Did that mean what she thought it meant? She hoped so. Because she had been 'Prentiss' for twenty seven months, three weeks and four days. But hey, who's counting? Well, okay, she had been since she'd realized she developed feelings for her boss three months, two weeks and four days ago.

It was a Tuesday.

And all he'd done that day was hold open the door for her and then give her a little smile when she said thanks. That was it. That was her great revelatory moment that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Not exactly a story for the grandkids. Not that she even had any prospects to have _kids_ with the man, let alone grandkids. They were still just as professional as they'd always been. Okay, they sat a little closer together, and their arms brushed more often than not, but that was about all the action she'd gotten.

Her eyes began to sting, and given their odds right now, sweetheart or not, that was probably all the action she was ever going to get. God damn it. Why couldn't they ever catch a break?

She bit her lip as Hotch peeled her shirt up to look at the wound on her side. He had a great poker face. And she was positive he would have pulled it out right now if it was bad, but fortunately she could read him like a book, and what she saw in his eyes was genuine relief.

Looking up, Hotch nodded and gave her a little smile as he said quietly, "just a flesh wound, through and through on your side. It's not bad," he patted her hand, "not bad at all."

He took off his jacket and started to tear it into strips, cursing as yet another bullet whizzed past his head and he threw himself on top of Emily yet again.

Emily.

He needed to get her out of here. Well, he needed to get both of them out of there, but really, she was his primary concern at the moment because she was hurt, and they were almost out of ammo, and what was the last one? Oh yeah, he'd realized about a month ago that he'd fallen in love with her and couldn't imagine his life without her.

There was that.

Not that he'd shared that development with her. And they were probably less than ten minutes from being executed by a group of gangbangers that they'd had the very, very unfortunate luck to stumble across when they came to check out an old dump site. They didn't have their vests, or any extra clips, and their God damn phones weren't working because they were in the middle of a concrete box. All he was hoping for was to last long enough for the others to realize that they had been out of radio contact for too long and somebody would come looking for them.

But . . . pulling his body back he looked down at her . . . that was kind of a long shot. And the more time passed, the longer it was getting longer. He took a ragged breath. Things weren't looking good for them getting out of this alive.

His eyes started to burn, he might have to watch her die. Or just as bad, he might die knowing he was leaving her alone with a warehouse full of gang members. God knows what they'd do to her. He unconsciously rubbed her leg. Oh God, he couldn't think about that. Those were the kind of thoughts that would send him skidding right over the edge of sanity. And right now all that mattered was getting her fixed up. And then he'd try to come up with a new plan. He tugged her slightly off the ground so she could prop herself up on her hands, then he started to wrap the makeshift bandages around her abdomen. Things were going well enough until she gasped in pain as he yanked the ends tightly so he could tie them off.

He bit his lip as he apologized again for hurting her.

"I'm sorry sweetheart but it has to be tight to stop the bleeding."

As he was making the knot he realized that was the second time he'd called her sweetheart in the past two minutes. His eyes wide, he looked down at her.

Oh shit.

Reaching over, Emily grasped his hand before giving him a brilliant smile that made his chest hurt. A tear ran down her face as she whispered, "I thought it was just me."

His features softened, and he was about to respond when he suddenly heard footsteps getting closer. He froze, realizing then that they hadn't fired back a shot in over a minute. They probably assumed they were out of ammo. He'd needed a new plan and he could use this to their advantage. Catching Emily's eye, he put his finger to his lips and she nodded as she reached over to pick up her weapon. It had fallen out of her hand when she was hit.

Hotch grabbed his own pistol from the ground. Then he leaned up and planted a quick kiss on her lips, because bad timing or not, he'd be damned if he was about to get shot in the head before he did that.

She smiled as he pulled back and he flashed her a dimple in return. Then he turned to peer between the empty oil drums they were hiding behind. He licked his lips, she tasted like strawberries. He liked strawberries. Clearly this was a match made in heaven. Now he just had to make sure they actually got together before they hit the afterlife. Even though he'd heard fine things about Valhalla, he was hoping not to get his ticket punched for a few years yet. He felt her move up beside him, getting her shot lined up in the next open gap. He sent a prayer to the man upstairs before he snapped his eyes over to hers and started counting down silently.

Emily followed along with Hotch's countdown, waiting for the moment.

One . . . two . . . and then she was screaming as Hotch's blood splashed onto her face and her hands.

"OH GOD! OH GOD NO!"

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_**A/N 2:**__ How's that for evil? Now the question you have to ask yourself is, how much of this story comes from the fluffy bunny part of my brain that writes coffee convos and nighttime snuggling, and how much comes from the dark and twisty side that churns out brain tumors and plane crashes? _

_This was originally supposed to be a one shot. But I got to the cliff hangery point and then figured what the hell, I'll actually post a CLIFFY! I don't think I've done that before. This won't go beyond two chapters. However it turns out :)_

_Total aside. Valhalla. Best . . . afterlife . . . ever. Food, fighting, burly men, alcohol. What more could a girl want for eternity?_


	2. No Time Like the Present Chapter 2

**I DIDN'T WRITE THIS CHAPTER!**

This has become a bit of a round robin. And if you don't know that term, it means one person starts a story and then it's carried on by somebody else.

I started this story like 6 months ago, thought it would be a quick one shot and then could never finish the damn thing. Then I wrote literally 27 _other_ stories, but every month I pull this one out, sometimes add another line, sometimes not, but I just couldn't finish it.

Then over the past few months I've made friends with another girl on the site and she just started getting the writing bug herself.

SO, knowing this poor little story had been sitting there all abandoned and unloved for months and months now, I thought this might be kind of fun for her to play with it. Therefore, this chapter, **I just wrote the very beginning and batted clean up on formatting. I think when you get to the phrase "self fulfilling prophecy" that was the last word I put to the page**.

The rest was all written by . . . drum roll . . . **Imananthropologist!**

The second A/N at the end, that one's from her. And please do give her some feedback :) If any of you write, just please remember what it was like being a new author and literally nobody knows who you are so you have no built in audience that will take a chance on your stuff. I do however have a built in audience so I'm giving her a little coming out party :)

I think she did a fabulous job, not only did she wrap a story I couldn't wrap, but she also was able to match her style with what I'd already written at the top of the page. Good job hon :) I had to say that in here because it would look super lame if I dropped that note on a review in what is technically my own story!

If you drop a review on here please know you'll be making the new kid happy. And by extension that will make me happy and I might just reward you with THREE story updates this weekend instead of two! See I'm not above bribery for a good cause :)

-Sienna

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**Chapter 2 **

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

Emily kept praying over and over as she desperately tried to staunch the flow of blood pouring out of Hotch's chest.

The bullet had knocked him to the ground, and given the spray pattern she was afraid that it had it an artery.

Anyone else would have been screaming but not Aaron Hotchner. He had bitten clean through his lip, but aside from the 'oomph' on impact the only sounds coming past his lips were that of his labored breathing.

She would have preferred a scream. Anything but the sound of him struggling to stay alive.

Her eyes began to burn . . . please God, please just give us a chance here.

As much as she hated it, Emily knew that she had to take one of her hands off the wound so she could pack it. So, pressing down harder with one hand, she reached over with the other to grab his tattered suit jacket from the floor.

Hotch watched as Emily pulled her bloody hand back from his chest. He felt a little woozy.

_Oh shit . . . that was a lot of blood. _

That was about his last focused thought before he started to fade out.

As Emily watched the blood pooling off of his chest, her fear started to fade away.

It was replaced by a cold fury.

This was NOT happening! They weren't going to get together and then be ripped apart a moment later. That was bullshit. He was not going to die. And she was not about to be gang raped either.

Yeah, that had been a fairly pressing concern rolling around in the back of her head as soon as she realized just how screwed they really were.

Once they ran out of bullets Hotch would only be able to do so much to protect her. And she had no doubt he'd die before they let them touch her... but that was the outcome that frightened her the most.

Him dying in front of her and _then_ her getting brutalized.

Well . . . her jaw twitched . . . enough of that crap. Because if she kept on going down that road it was going to be a self fulfilling prophecy.

Hotch might be temporarily out of commission, but they had three guns between them and more bullets then UNSUBs.

Unfortunately she also had a bullet wound, but with the amount of adrenaline pumping through her system the pain from that had pretty much faded from her mind.

And she refused to look down at her shirt.

Knowing already . . . without the visual confirmation . . . that she was still bleeding too.

But that couldn't be helped at the moment. She just had to worry about getting herself and the man she loved out of this mess. Then she could worry about the medical treatment they both so desperately were going to need.

Listening intently, she realized that she could hear the footfalls of their assailants getting closer. She knew she was out numbered one to twelve, but with her body on an adrenaline high and her mind already made up that she was getting herself and Hotch out of there, she decided to face those odds head on.

She had ten rounds left in her clip, plus eight in his. Already that was more bullets then heads coming after her.

Plus she still had the gun strapped to his ankle and she knew that had a full mag.

Realizing that there assailants were quickly closing in on their location, Emily picked the gun up out of Hotch's hand and held it securely in her left.

Now with a gun in each hand and the most determined look in her eyes she leaned down quickly and pressed a kiss to Hotch's mouth.

"Don't worry, I'll get us out of here."

Hotch had no time to respond before Emily . . . as if channeling Laura Croft: Tomb Raider herself . . . snapped to the front on the balls of her feet with both guns aimed out on either side of the barrel blocking her chest.

And then she let the bullets rip.

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It was something straight out of a James Bond film... and as the gang members dropped one by one in quick succession Emily let out an almost guttural yell of triumph.

As the bullets flew out of her guns and straight into her targets craniums Emily had to believe that God had heard her plea. No way would she ever be able to duplicate something of this magnitude again. Twelve head shots all in a row... and in less than 80 some odd seconds.

No way in hell.

That was something only God himself or the best Hollywood production team could create.

When the bullets were spent and Emily was sure that there was no one left alive besides herself and Aaron, she finally slumped back on her haunches and dropped the guns to the floor with a clank.

Two bullets from returning fire managed to clip her in her left arm... more blood oozing out of her body, and at a much faster rate than the wound on her side. And a third shot had gone through the barrel in front of her.. slowing down in the material just enough so that when it punctured her right shoulder it stopped just inside of the skin.

All in all the adrenaline had her high enough to hardly notice.

"HOLY SHIT" followed a rush of air from her body that she had locked tight inside of her.

She did it.

She really did it!!!!

She saved them.

But as she looked down at the paling man beside her she realized that her work was not yet over.

Leaning over him, she pressed her hand back down on his still bleeding wound and used her other hand to check his pulse.

He was still with her but he was obviously fading. He was still struggling to get air in and out and his pulse was getting weaker.

Quick Emily think . . . you need to get help, and fast.

She knew that if she was going to call for help that meant she was going to have to leave his side and run outside to use her cell phone. She didn't think she had the strength to walk away from this man for even a millisecond! But she knew that his life depended on her taking action now. So she leaned down and patted his cheek gently.

"Honey... Aaron, look at me ok?"

She waited until his eyes focused in on hers before she continued to address him.

"We're safe now honey but I need to go outside and call for an ambulance... we really need to get you to a hospital. I need to leave you for just a second to make the call ok?"

He nodded slowly, whispering, "good job sweetheart," just before he passed out again.

Biting her lip, Emily studied his face, committing every inch of it to memory just in case.

'_In case what Emily, you just did the unthinkable to save him. God is not going to take him away from you in the two seconds it's going to take you to call for help. Right?'_

She just had to go quick, tell them as fast as she could, and yet as clearly as possible, and then she could get right back to him.

With the plan firmly set in her mind she looked down at him once more, her eyes stinging as she pulled her phone out of her pocket.

"Sir, you are hereby ordered not to die on me!"

She leaned down to kiss him again and then made a mad dash passed the pools of blood and lifeless bodies she had just dispatched, before racing out the open doorway.

As she broke free of the concrete confines she frantically dialed 911 and within seconds she relayed their location and situation to the dispatcher.

Once she had confirmation help was coming, Emily left the call running and hastily set the phone down on the ground before she raced back inside to Hotch. She reached his side as fast as her legs could carry her.

And then she went back to her duty of keeping him alive.

The problem with that plan though was, the adrenaline was wearing off faster then she could have predicted. She was really starting to feel weak. Blood was still coming out of her side and her three new wounds... she was really beginning to feel lightheaded.

Reaching up to her shoulder, quickly, while she still had some strength left in her, she carefully and skillfully dug the bullet out of her skin using her nail. It feel to the ground with a tiny ping. Now the blood was really coming out.

This was not good. How would she help Aaron if she was going to pass out?

"Help is coming," she whispered to him, "we're going to be ok. I promise. And when we get home things are going to be great."

Hotch let out a shaky breath, knowing that he had to keep holding on through the pain for this woman by his side. She had worked so hard to save them against all the odds . . . he couldn't let her down now.

He had to get home to his little boy and start a new life with this amazing woman who he loved with everything he had.

'_They would get home and things would be great,'_ that's what she had said.

And that was the thought he held onto as he heard the faint sounds of approaching sirens and began to close his eyes in relief.

'_Yes, life with Emily by his side was going to be great.'_

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_AN2: Cause I am sure Sienna is dropping one at the top!_

_Well guys this was my very first attempt at FanFiction writing (really I only wrote half of this.. aka finished it) but Sienna thought I did a pretty good job so I will take that as my little pat on the back. _

_I am working on another piece right now for a prompt challenge that will be my first (all me) Criminal Minds story. Don't expect too much, its just going to be really short and sweet. I have a much bigger project that I am working on but until I get at least two chapters totally finish I wont be posting. But keep your eyes out for more from me in the future! This was a great way for me to give it a go, so thank you very much Sienna for giving me a start and some helpful hints!!! _

_Please review and let me know what you guys think. If you like it I may be so inclined as to post an epilogue of sorts. Thanks!!!!_


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